Shattered
by BringJebbieBack
Summary: "She silently begged for it all to just stop, to wake up from this nightmare and be wrapped up in the arms of her beautiful lover." Debbie's feelings after discovering Jasmine's affair with Cain. Jebbie angst. One-shot, please read and review.


**So this is my attempt at a one-shot based around Debbie's feelings after finding out about Jasmine's affair with Cain. I only recently discovered Jebbie, since I was pretty young when the whole storyline between them played out, so if I get any details mixed up then I apologize in advance. This is only my second fic so please be gentle. Hope you guys enjoy it.**

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Throwing open her bedroom door, Debbie fled inside and slammed it furiously behind her. She ignored Lisa's concerned calls from the bottom of the stairs. She really didn't need anyone's concern right now- let alone their pity.

Since her encounter with _her_ earlier, Debbie refused to let herself cry again. She wasn't weak, and crying over something that she thought as _trivial _as this would only prove that.

Looking around her bedroom, she felt a lump rise in her throat as her eyes met a reminder of _her. _The old romance novel on her desk, tattered at the corners. How many times had _she_ read that old thing? What the hell did _she_ even find amusing about it anyway? It didn't look the slightest bit intriguing to Debbie in any way.

Picking it up, Debbie flicked through it gently. It was full of dumbass characters who thought they had it all in a lovey-dovey story bubbling at the brim with big sophisticated words. Everything _she _loved in a book.

Debbie felt the anger bubbling within her as she approached the last pages. The book was sickeningly stereotypical- the hero obviously falling for the leading lady that chased after him for years just as they approached the conclusion.

If there was one thing Debbie hated more than anything in the world- and yes, more than her "dad"or _her _at the moment- it was these damn romance novels. How come life couldn't be more like this piece of crap? But yet again no book she'd ever heard of was about a wild street-kid (a girl obviously) like herself falling for a sweet and innocent girl like _her_?

Debbie scoffed to herself. Yeah, _innocent. _

Her fury finally reached a breaking point, and without abandon she flung the book at the wall. It hit it with a _clack! _and dropped to the floor. A gentle plume of dust rose around it.

Debbie's blood boiled. She hated this house, and everything in it. She cursed Daz for ever smashing that stupid bottle of vodka; if he hadn't she might still be living in the comfortable conditions of the vicarage.

But now that she thought about it though, if that had been the case she didn't think she could live there now with_ her _in that house.

The events of the night of the fire replayed over in Debbie's mind, and she began to wish her dad had left her in that damn house to burn. At least then she wouldn't be going through this crap now.

Wanting to clear her head of these dark thoughts, Debbie bolted off the bed and headed for the door. She ran down the stairs, mumbling something along the lines of "I'll be back later", to Lisa. The older woman stood at the kitchen sink, her forehead creased with worry. She had yet to find out about her stepson's revenge on his own daughter.

The cool air bit at Debbie's face as she stepped outside. She had only one place in mind right now.

For the next half an hour, she trekked her way through the fields and finally into the woods. She breathed a sigh of relief as the tiny wooden shack eventually came into view. Nobody could bother her here, at least not for the next few hours. Once Zak arrived home though, and he and Lisa discovered the events of the day, they would certainly send out a Dingle search-party.

Stepping into the shack, Debbie was hit with the memories it held.

"_I really do love you, Jas", Debbie murmured gently to her companion. _

"_Yeah, me too", the other girl nodded and whispered back._

_The quietness of their words thrilled both girls; it made their love feel more secretive. But even though it was secretive, they knew it was real. Well, at least one of them._

_Debbie leaned into the other girl, who in turn met her halfway. Their lips locked in a gentle kiss. Debbie felt the fireworks explode behind her eyelids. How could such a tender kiss illicit such emotions in her? _

_Pulling back, she gazed into the deep brown eyes of her lover. The other girl looked slightly exhilarated, her eyes wide and her chest rising and falling rapidly. Debbie wondered if she herself looked like a mirror version of this right now. She certainly felt like it. _

_Moving in again, she captured her friend's lips. This kiss wasn't like the first one. It was more confident, slightly harder. Once again, Debbie's heart rate increased and the fireworks kicked off again. Her lips tingled with electricity._

_Bringing her hands up to cradle the other's girls sides, she gently began to push her down against the bed they were sitting on. Her lover gasped into her mouth, her hands coming up to hold Debbie's forearms. _

_Debbie knew where this was going, and a part of her wished that their first time could have been in a nicer, more comfortable environment. But another part of her, the more dominant part, thought that as long as she was with this girl beneath her, she could make love to her anywhere. _

_As always though, nothing is ever perfect- and their moment was halted by a noise from outside. _

Overwhelmed by the memories, Debbie struck out her right fist and smashed it against the wall. Her hand ached as she pulled it back; but she felt that as this pain ached, the one in her chest lessened ever so slightly.

Pulling back her fist again, she threw it once more against the wall. Her knuckles screamed in protest, but it didn't stop her. Lifting her other fist, she also hammered it head-on into the wall.

Seconds later, she was punching the wall with all her might. The skin of her knuckles had began to split and bleed. But it didn't stop Debbie. She continued to throw them against the battered wood.

Her anger burned within her. Why would her own father do this to her? He was meant to protect her, look out for her like a real father should do for his daughter. But no- all he could do was succeed in taking away one of two people she loved more than her own life. She knew that Cain Dingle was a cruel heartless man at the best of times- but did he not even have the slightest shred of decency to know that doing this to his own child would shatter her already-fragile heart?

She thought of her own child. Sarah, her darling baby girl. Debbie loved her, she truly did, with every inch of her heart. From the moment she gazed up at her with her beautiful baby blue eyes at birth. It broke Debbie's heart to have to hand her over to Emily that day. But what good would she be for her? She would end up ruining her, like she managed to do with everything in her life. She refused to doom her daughter to a life like her own.

And finally, she thought of _her_. Why did she ever choose to get involved with her? She should have known she was trouble, ever since their little scrap outside the cricket pavilion. Debbie knew she should have turned and walked away from her that day when she had the chance.

"_No_", Debbie growled inwardly to herself. Despite everything that had happened today, _she _had made Debbie happier than she ever believed she could be after Sarah. She didn't regret a moment of their affair- not kissing her in the cafe to spite her dad, not admitting her feelings to her that day beside her stepdad's grave, not all their stolen kisses and caresses when they were alone. She didn't even regret telling Daz- let alone half the village- about the two of them that day in the cafe!

She slowly halted her punches, throwing her fist one last time against the wall and holding it there. The black-brown of the old wood was stained with her ruby-red blood. Closing her eyes, she slid down the wall.

For ages she remained sitting against the wall, head buried in her knees. Her arms were wrapped around her legs and pulling them tightly against her chest. Her knuckles continued to scream with pain and bleed freely.

Lifting her head, she looked down at her hands and grimaced at the sight. The skin was split on each of them and bleeding profusely. "Idiot", Debbie mumbled to herself as she wrapped her knuckles in the bottoms of her sleeves. They ached at the friction of being rubbed against the fabric of her coat.

But nothing compared to the agonising ache within her chest. Her knuckles weren't the only things bleeding. Debbie had often heard people on those American television shows describing heartbreak as feeling like someone had "ripped out their heart".

But not for her. She would actually be glad if someone came along and ripped out her heart right now. Maybe if they did then she would never experience the emotion of love ever again. And if she didn't experience love, then she wouldn't know the feeling of heartbreak.

She wouldn't know the feeling of this horrible, never-ending dull throb of a dying organ inside her chest.

Debbie's body was suddenly wracked with unexpected sobs. She herself didn't even know where they had come from- but she did know that they wouldn't be stopping for a while. The hot tears streamed down her cheeks at an alarming rate after hours of being held in.

Her cries became louder with every passing moment, her heart continuing to break. She couldn't understand how it was still shattering within her- after seeing her dad with her girlfriend, she was pretty sure the job had been done a couple of times over; there would be no more heart left to break within her, just millions of pieces of broken glass-like fragments.

Debbie threw her head back and emitted a scream of agony, allowing herself to be swallowed whole by the pain emitting from not just her heart, but her entire being. She silently begged for it all to just stop, to wake up from this nightmare and be wrapped up in the arms of her beautiful lover.

To be able to look into those deep brown eyes that Debbie fell a little bit more in love with every time she looked into them.

To be able to look down at their joined hands and marvel at the contrast between their skin, the pale marble-like flesh of her fingers entwined with her lover's dark olive-toned ones.

To be able to run her fingers through her lover's dark chocolate brown hair and became engulfed in the smell of her shampoo as she buried her face in it.

To be able to caress the smooth skin of her face and gaze at the young eternal beauty of it, the most beautiful girl in the world by far, much more beautiful than herself in her own opinion.

To be able to feel the softness of her lips as they met her own in a tender, but yet at the same time passionate kiss, and feel the sparks of electricity travelling through her body and see the fireworks exploding behind her eyelids.

For a moment, Debbie allowed herself to imagine all these things, and slowly began to feel _her _with her. The pain in her chest dulled and almost stopped, and for the first time all day everything felt all right again.

That was until the memories of today came rushing back to her and hit her in the face like cold water. The ache returned, stronger than ever, and the imaginary feeling of _her _presence vanished once more.

The tears continued, and Debbie continued to shatter.

Like every girl without their father, she cried for her dad.

Like every mother without their child, she cried for Sarah.

Like every person without their soulmate, she cried for Jasmine.

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**Thanks for reading, please read and review :)**


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